


Riddle me This

by The_Jashinist



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Gore, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, NANANANANANANANANANABATMAN, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, hahaha i suck at summaries seriously kill me now, let's make a list of all the stupid shit jon does, that's my batman tag now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7247656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jashinist/pseuds/The_Jashinist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Escaping a bad relationship, Jonathan finds that he needs something to keep his ex from breaking in.  Little does he know that the perfect man for the job is exactly what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was raining outside, a minor detail to most that was echoing its way through Jonathan’s head as he held an icepack against his swollen cheek.

He gave it three weeks before he was back in the line of fire.  After all, Arkham could never really hold Jack for much longer than that.  Jonathan considered, briefly, getting himself locked back in, before realizing that the second Jack was back in Arkham he’d be outed as actively avoiding him by one of the therapists who were more interested in Jonathan’s relationship status and couldn’t give less of a damn whether or not he ended up with a pretty black eye because they couldn’t keep their fat mouths shut.

Not that it really mattered what Jack did now.  Jonathan had slammed the door in his face and was determined to keep that door shut for as long as he could, and possibly never open it again.

The door to the guest room creaked open and Jason cautiously crept out.  He’d gone to hide inside when the screaming had started, completely disregarding the fact that he still had a bullet embedded in his shoulder.  It probably didn’t do much.  The apartment, as nice as it was, had walls like a college dorm room.  It was probably how Lawton’s daughter kept learning swears from Jonathan.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asked, his voice low and slightly apprehensive.  Jonathan didn’t blame him, as Jonathan wasn’t quite the type to raise his voice very much, and barely shouted unless he was truly and honestly furious.  He really had been, which explained why there was now a neatly stacked box of Jack’s few belongings sitting out on the curb, in the rain.

“If by ‘that’ you mean I just kicked Jack out and broke up with him resulting in Batman showing up because he tried to kill me?” Jonathan turned his head towards Jason, “Yes that just happened.  How’s your shoulder?”

Jason dug into his pocket and pulled out a small bullet, then moved his costume out of the way to show that he’d sloppily bandaged the wound.

“You pulled it out yourself?” Jonathan asked.

“I figured you needed some time alone,” Jason clarified, “and I didn’t do too badly.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan got to his feet and pressed his thumb against the injury, making Jason yelp, “Don’t ever do it again.  That was stupid and dangerous.”

“And breaking up with the Joker wasn’t?” Jason teased.

“Whatever,” Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jason asked.

“Try not to sleep for a month.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.  I’ll just stock up on caffeine pills and coffee.”

“How long ago did you get hospitalized because of caffeine pills?”

“Two weeks!”

Jonathan fell over the back of the couch and readjusted the icepack, flinching at the spike of pain in his back.  He drew his lips into a line and began checking the damage this latest fight caused.  Besides the swollen cheek, there was a large bruise across his lower back and several bruises on his torso and arms.  Jonathan knew exactly where the bruise on his back had come from, and the knocked over lamp in the corner just emphasized it.  Overall it wasn’t bad, especially considering that Jonathan had gotten very close to a slit throat and a hospital trip.

“How old are you again?” Jason asked, leaning on the couch right beside Jonathan, “Because you just fell onto an antique couch like Dick does and I can guarantee that he is not mature.”

“Look if you grew up having to sit up straight, shut up, and never properly act like a child, would you ever act like an adult in your own house?” Jonathan retorted.

“I suppose not,” Jason shrugged, “so be honest with me, do you have a plan for keeping Jack from trying to take you back?”

“Go get my phone,” Jonathan pointed to the kitchen counter.

“Which one?” Jason looked over at the two cellphones sitting side by side on the counter.  One was a brick of a phone from several years ago, and the other was a smartphone with an Otterbox.

“I’m calling Selina,” Jonathan clarified.

“Got it,” Jason picked up the smartphone and flung it at Jonathan.  It hit him in the forehead and left a big red mark.

“Ow,” Jonathan remarked, “rude.”

“You told me to get your phone.”

“You know damn well I meant pick it up and bring it to me.”

“So why are you calling Selina?”

“She knows where I can get a good security system.”

“Where?”

“Tell me, what’s this Riddler fellow like?”

* * *

Edward jumped as a roll of thunder rumbled across the sky and he reluctantly stowed under an awning and closed his umbrella, shaking off the rain.  Instinctively, he leaned on the umbrella like it was a cane.

The phone in his pocket rang and was answered without so much as a sidelong glance at the caller ID.  Edward didn’t care who it was.  By all likelihood it was the Penguin, demanding to know why Edward was exactly two minutes and twelve seconds late to their arranged meeting.  Edward loved being punctual, but he wasn’t about to risk getting struck by lightning for Oswald Cobblepot, no sir, he was not.

“Edward Nygma speaking,” Edward tried not to sound bitter, but knew that was exactly how he was coming off.

“Is someone late for a meeting with a stuffed bird?” a woman’s patronizing voice teased.

“Selina!” Edward perked up immediately, then his face fell flat, “What do you want?”

Selina sighed and Edward allowed himself a little victorious smirk.  Selina only ever called when she wanted something, like right now.

“Well it’s not for me,” she clarified.

“Yeah that doesn’t totally sell it, but I’ll bite,” Edward shrugged.

“So a friend of mine just broke up with his boyfriend,” Selina began.

“And like that you’ve lost me.”

“Let me finish,” Selina ordered, “so he called me and asked if I knew anyone who could fix up a security system to keep the asshole out.  Well I knew he was talking about you, so I said I’d give you a call.”

“You were talking about me to your friends?” Edward raised his voice, “God I can’t even trust my friends.”

“Ed, please,” Selina sighed, “I promise it’s been nothing but accolades, Jon’s not a very bombastic person, but I think you’ll like him just fine.”

“Jon?” Edward frowned.  Where had he heard that name before?  One of Cobblepot’s tenants perhaps, Oswald sometimes rented apartments in his territory to people in exchange for errands and favors.  He talked about them, a lot.

“Mmhm,” Selina confirmed, “Jonathan Crane, he lives up on Magnolia Street, next door to Deadshot.  He’s friends with Jervis~.”

“Is he a criminal?” Edward asked.

“Have you ever heard of the Scarecrow?”

“You’re sending me to the apartment of a fear-obsessed psychopath?”

“Hey, Jon is not a psychopath,” Selina protested, “His ex is another story.  Now then, are you up for it?”

Edward paused and looked out to the corner he was standing nearest to.  He was one right turn and a few buildings down from the apartment.  A quick survey and meeting with a world-renowned psychologist didn’t seem like a half-bad idea.  Jervis had always referred to the Scarecrow rather fondly as “March Hare”, so maybe the endeavor wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

“I’ll be there after this meeting with Oswald,” Edward finally replied.

“Great,” Selina sounded like she was grinning, “see you Ed.”

The line went dead and Edward re-pocketed his phone and set off for the Iceberg Lounge, reopening his umbrella to keep the rain off.

* * *

“You missed a commotion about an hour ago,” Oswald commented, “One of my tenants attracted a Bat.”

“That sounds like some rotten luck,” Edward smirked.

“I’d call it inevitability,” Oswald disagreed, “I can’t think of a single good thing that might come out of dating the Joker.”

“Isn’t he dating that psychiatrist?” Edward asked, “Quinzel or something like that.”

“And another,” Oswald nodded, “though I didn’t know Quinzel was a psychiatrist.  Huh, maybe it’s a preference.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, you’re not much in the loop are you?  Crane, idiot got himself wrapped up with the Joker.  With luck, this’ll be the last time and he won’t go running back.”

“That explains a lot,” Edward rolled his eyes.  Maybe Selina should’ve mentioned that Dr. Crane’s ex was a psychopathic clown.  That might’ve been some useful information.

“What explains a lot?”  Oswald raised an eyebrow.

“Selina asked me to go install a security system down there,” Edward clarified.

“I’ll pay you for it,” Oswald offered.

There was a pause.  Now it was no secret that Oswald Cobblepot was one of the stingiest people out there, and Edward was more aware of this than almost anyone.  He did, after all, consider himself a friend of Cobblepot, and he knew it was hard to even borrow money from him.  Getting an apartment from him was tough too, you had to have something Cobblepot found useful.  Oswald had refused to give Edward an apartment because, as he claimed, Edward was too expensive.  He was currently camping out with a friend from college, who probably had enough to deal with and was sick of Edward living in her apartment.

“Are you serious?” Edward could hear the disbelieving tone in his voice.

“As the plague,” Cobblepot nodded, “look, Crane has a habit of thinking he can fight everyone.  If he’s slowing down and considering that Joker is a legitimate threat, I will gladly pay for a security system to keep that psychopath out.  Even if it is one of your ridiculously priced contraptions.  Could probably rid the world of that irritating little bastard.”

Edward snorted slightly and looked down at the glass in front of him.

A couple drinks and a chat had turned into a legitimate business transaction, one where he might make some money doing something perfectly legal.

Mostly legal.

He wasn’t going to get arrested for installing a security system at the very least.

As long as no one died it was fine right?

Right?


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken several minutes to convince Jason to leave, that he could handle himself against one man with the same fighting skill as his most ferocious cat.

A cat who was currently attacking one of his shoelaces, chasing Jonathan around while he paced around, chewing his thumbnail, spitting out the tiny chips of nail polish that wormed their way into his mouth, and then chewing more.  He finally stopped when he tasted blood and went to put a band-aid over the cut he’d chewed into his hand.

And that is exactly when someone knocked on the door.

“Hold on!” Jonathan called scooping up the cat destroying his sneaker and dumping him on the couch before checking the peephole.

Three hours was a new record for Jack, and that was not a good thing, in fact it was more of a “time to write my last will” thing.

Considering this, Jonathan proceeded to lock the door.

“You just-” Jack’s shock was apparent, “Oh come on Jonny!  I didn’t mean it!”

“Go away,” Jonathan replied in a deadpan voice.

“My stuff’s in there!” Jack protested.

“No, it’s out on the curb.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

There was a loud crash from outside, followed by what felt like Jack’s full weight slamming into the door.

“Let me in you ungrateful little-” Jack let out a stream of swears that Jonathan was completely certain even Jack wouldn’t repeat unless he was explicitly pissed off.  Jonathan set his lips into a line and leaned on the door, fully aware that Jack could probably plow through it even with Jonathan’s full weight against it, considering Jack could pick Jonathan up without much effort.

In reality, he was just hoping Lawton would react to the screamed swears before Jack got in.

But Jack didn’t ram into the door a second time, nor did it sound like he was picking the lock.

“Jack?” Jonathan raised his voice.

“You need me,” Jack muttered.

“Mmhm,” Jonathan rolled his eyes, “haven’t heard that one before.”

“Think about it Jon,” Jack continued, “you’ve done this before, and every time you come back, so let’s skip all this moping and moaning and pretending to be over it and just let me back in, apologize, you know, like always.”

Jonathan stood up straight and turned to the door, “Apologize?  For what?  If anyone should be apologizing it’s you.  Get. Lost.”

There was a silence on the other end of the door.  Jonathan could practically hear Jack’s teeth grinding together in an attempt to not break down the door, or beg for Jonathan to come back to him.

“Whatever,” Jack laughed, “you’ll come back.  You always do.  You’re just like Harley.”

Jonathan waited for Jack’s footsteps to retreat before leaning on the door and sinking down into a sitting position, at which point a black cat came and curled up on Jonathan’s lap.  Jonathan looked down at the cat and sighed.  He couldn’t help but wonder if Jack was right.  Every other time, Jonathan had come back, but would he this time?  That was a very good question.

A question Jonathan was in no mood to answer.  He could find some distraction, maybe another person to date.  Fat chance that would ever happen though.  Jonathan was tall, thin, cynical, and wildly asocial, plus not many people who would be interested were too scared of Jack to even try.

He could pull a heist.  There really was nothing that could make him forget Jack better than burying himself in work.  Then again as soon as the whole debacle was over, Jonathan would be right back at square one, possibly in Arkham.

The taste of blood filled Jonathan’s mouth and he realized he’d begun to bite his nails again.  Jonathan shooed away the cat and went over to get a band-aid as he continued to consider his options.

He could ask for help.  Innsmouth was out and about, and Jack had always been kind of afraid of her.  Then again, Innsmouth was very bad at finding distractions.  Jervis was an option, for about an hour.  Jason and Harley were out of the question.  Jonathan sighed loudly, maybe he could bother this Edward Nygma as a last resort.  He’d agreed to the security system, so it was entirely possible that he’d agree to helping Jonathan avoid Jack completely.

Jonathan was actually curious about him.  Jason had commented that Nygma was a pompous, obnoxious smartass, and that Jonathan, considering his relationship with Jack, may or may not want to strangle him.  Uncertainty had never been something Jonathan had liked, to the point where this entire situation hand given him two bloody fingertips from sheer anxiety.

Jonathan glanced down at his bandaged fingertips, then glanced up at the bathroom mirror.  Had he slept recently?  Jonathan honestly couldn’t recall.  He wasn’t that tired, but there were bags under his eyes that were at least an inch thick, and the one above his now bruising cheek was a weird purplish color, which would probably look like a black eye by tomorrow.  Jonathan let out a dry laugh and ran his fingertips over the purple splotch.

“You need to take care of yourself better Jonny,” he crowed, mimicking Jack’s scolding tone that he would regularly use if Jonathan ever had bad bruises or breaks, injuries that were frequently Jack’s fault, “keep picking fights and one of these days you’ll end up dead in a gutter sweetheart.”

Jonathan stuck his tongue out at the pet name.  He hated the pet names, but Jack had been so adamant about them that Jonathan didn’t really have a choice but to deal with them.  There were a lot of things with Jack that Jonathan didn’t have a choice about, pet names was just a minor thing.

There was a knock at the door, catching Jonathan’s attention.

“Is there a Jonathan Crane at this residence?” an unfamiliar man’s voice asked loudly.

“Just a second!” Jonathan called, turning away from the mirror.

Just before he left, Jonathan cast a sidelong glance at the mirror.  His tired face stared back, battered and bruised.  Jonathan pulled his lips into a lines and nodded.

Never again.

* * *

 

The apartment door opened with a loud creak, revealing a tall man looking in dire need of a nap and, from his swollen, bruised cheek, an ice pack.  All things considered he looked pretty good for someone who’d just gotten the shit kicked out of them and probably hadn’t slept in a few weeks.  Maybe Edward was just dazzled by the striking blue color of his eyes or the fact that this man looked more like a college student than the doctor Edward had expected.

“Dr. Crane?” Edward guessed tentatively, trying to recall if anyone had mentioned Jonathan having a brother or something of that nature.  Jonathan was supposed to be thirty-five, but this man looked in his late twenties.  In all honesty, Edward was trying to figure out if this man was about to get extremely insulted.  Instead, he nodded.

“Edward Nygma I take it,” the man replied, holding out a hand, “height or face?”

“Pardon?” Edward stuttered, taking the hand.

“Are you confused by my height or trying not to mention the bruise?” Jonathan clarified.

“Oh neither,” Edward replied, as Jonathan lead him in, “um, well, it’s just...you look younger than I expected.”

“Younger?” Jonathan snorted, “That’s a new one.  I take it Selina gave you the details, why I need a security system, what happened, that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” Edward nodded, looking around.  It was a surprisingly nice apartment, a kitchen, a living room, two doors leading to separate bedrooms, one of them probably holding the bathroom.  There were faux rafters on the high ceilings, and a black cat was staring down at him from them.

“Is Wisp staring at you?” Jonathan asked, then clicked his teeth and tapped his fingernails on one of the counters, catching the cat’s attention and attracting him down to the counter.

“Well hi,” Edward greeted the cat, which responded with a bleating meow.

“He wants you to pet him,” Jonathan explained, “or feed him, the meows sound the same.”

The cat bleated again and Edward tentatively held a hand out.  The cat rubbed his head against it and began purring loudly, like a motor.

“He likes you,” Jonathan praised with a smile, “so, any questions?  I’m sure Selina left a few things out.”

“I have an irrelevant one,” Edward looked around, “why were you dating the Joker?”

“I wouldn’t call it dating,” Jonathan leaned on the counter, “it was closer to having sex with the Joker, and then I had to live with him on top of it.”

“That sounds pleasant,” Edward remarked sarcastically.

“It had its good points,” Jonathan shrugged.

“So Joker was good in bed?”

“He was.”

There was an extended pause before Jonathan added, “Actually good doesn’t even began to describe it.  ‘Euphoric’ would be more fitting.”

“Oh,” Edward looked at the counter, “so it was like being on drugs.”

“Drugs don’t give you multiple orgasms.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“You asked why I was dating Jack, you got my answer.”

“Okay,” Edward nodded, “next question, is that bruise from him?”

“Yes,” Jonathan confirmed, “I’ve had worse, trust me, this was a minor incident.”

“And you just recently broke up with him?”

“Look a few incidents don’t mean-” Jonathan stopped himself and heaved a heavy sigh, “-I should’ve known that a relationship with him wasn’t going to go well.  It’s not that I didn’t want to leave, I’ve tried so many times before, but I couldn’t leave...the only happiness I could take from it all was the sex. Maybe that’s why we had it so often...”

Edward looked down at the cat he was petting.

“You need this to keep him out right?” Edward walked around and leaned his back on the counter beside Jonathan.

“Yeah,” Jonathan nodded slowly.

“So what’s to stop you from going back to him?” Edward asked.

“I-” Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, letting out a laugh that sounded a bit too much like a sob, “I don’t have a clue.”

Edward turned away from Jonathan and stared at the fridge for a few minutes, scanning the black surface for pictures of people who weren’t that peachy with the Joker that might willingly work with him.

“You keep looking around if you like,” Jonathan straightened up and headed for the door, “I need to take a walk, clear my head a bit.”

“Stay safe,” Edward gave a curt nod and waited for Jonathan to walk out, “I’ll lock the door on my way out.”

Jonathan didn’t reply and shut the door behind him.  Edward set his lips into a line.  He had an idea, a way to figure out what to do about this.  For some strange reason, he really wanted to help this person he barely knew.  However, his method of helping was rude and possibly illegal.

He was going to snoop.

Edward opened the door to one of the bedrooms, the one with a well-worn handle and a crack running up the center.  Edward paused and considered taking out the handheld blacklight he kept in his pocket for a second, but realized that he didn’t want to be mentally scarred and just opened the door.

It was a neat bedroom, surprisingly, though it seriously looked as if the bed hadn’t been used for days, but if Edward were to guess, the last time it had been used, it most likely wasn’t for either of them to sleep.  The dresser, an old, handcrafted antique like most of Jonathan’s furniture, was cluttered with an array of books, empty orange pill bottles, and maybe a few somewhat off-color things that Edward himself would keep in a drawer.

Edward picked up one of the pill bottles and looked at the label: an anti-anxiety, a strong one too.  Edward checked the other bottles, same medication.  Edward blew out his cheeks and set the bottle back on the dresser and continued to look around.  A black suit vest was hanging by one armhole on the open bathroom door, with a lovely blue tie underneath.  Edward lifted the tie and ran his thumb over the picture printed on the front.  More Cthulhu, it was honestly a little entertaining to see.  Maybe it was why he saw several photographs of Hazel Marsh, the little Lovecraft-obsessed psychopath, on Jonathan’s fridge.  Hazel would probably be happy to help Jonathan, as long as Edward wasn’t involved in any way.  Hazel didn’t like Edward and it suited him just fine because he didn’t really like Hazel in any way, shape, or form.

The front door opened and there was a small commotion in front of the door before he heard it shut again.

“Jon?”

Edward froze; he knew that voice.

 And its owner did _not_ like Edward.

“Jon, honey are you here?” the voice said as a pair of heels rapped across the hardwood floor.

The footsteps came to a halt suddenly.

“Selina call you too Questions?”

Edward turned to the door, ready to throw out something witty even though he had nothing to say.

And standing in the doorway was exactly the last person he wanted to see: Poison Ivy, leaning on the doorframe and giving Edward an expectant look.

“Where’s Jon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry if this strikes really close to home for some people I am completely going out of my way to portray this as really unhealthy and directly stating it.  
> Please please use precautions when treading further this is a lot less happy compared to Questions.  
> Serious Jashinist out.


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan rapped on the dark brown door a second time, tapping his toe on the ground nervously.

“Come on Ivy,” he muttered, “open the damn door.”

Nothing gave, if anyone could make him feel better, it was someone who had no problem shit-talking Jack, and that was certainly Ivy.

But she wasn’t answering the door.  He couldn’t get into her garage to see if her car was there either.

It probably wasn’t, knowing his luck.

“Ya okay Jonny?” Harley’s voice piped up from behind Jonathan.  He turned to find Harley behind him, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a busted lip.

“Oh fuck,” Jonathan quickly left the doorstep and skidded to a stop in front of Harley.

“It’s no biggie Jonny,” Harley shrugged, “Mr. J was just a lil upset when he got back is all.  Guess he was pretty mad at you too.”

Jonathan drew his lips into a line as Harley raised her hand to his bruised cheek.  Was it worth the possibility of anger to tell her why Jack was so angry?  There was already a pit forming in his gut.  This was his fault, he knew it was, and it was making him feel bad.

“What’s wrong?” Harley asked, as intuitive as always, “Somethin’ Mr. J said?”

“No,” Jonathan shook his head, his hand rising to the tattoo behind his ear.  It was a small black bird, one he’d gotten before he’d begun dating Jack, but that Jack particularly liked, to the point where he had a habit of kissing it.

“It’s somethin’ with Mr. J,” Harley tapped Jonathan’s hand, “ya only touch that bird when somethin’s wrong with you two.”

Jonathan let out a loud sigh.

“Tell me okay?” Harley took Jonathan’s hand and held it tightly, “I promise I won’t get mad.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Jonathan muttered, wriggling his hand out of her grasp and backing away.

“I haven’t gotten mad the last few times you n’ Puddin’ got into a fight,” Harley put her hands on her hips, pouting, “what’s so bad about this time?”

“There you are!”

Ivy’s voice was the last one he wanted to hear right now.

Seeing her storming up red in the face was also not something he wanted to see because that means he did something wrong.  A lump formed in his throat.  Selina called Ivy.  Of all people, she decided to call Pamela “Man-hating” Isley to keep him away from Jack.

He was starting to regret telling Selina anything had even happened.

“I’ve been looking for you for over an hour!” Ivy yelled.

“Not the best place to do that Ivy!” Edward yelled from Ivy’s car.  Ivy was about to turn and ask why when she realized Harley was right next to her, looking utterly lost and confused.

“Harley?” Ivy’s face looked a mix of embarrassed and surprised, then she glared at Jonathan as if to say she completely blamed him for Harley’s busted lip, because of course she did.  Granted, Ivy was no fan of Jack and had always been the person urging both him and Harley to get away from him, but she was clearly more invested when it came to Harley, Jonathan was an afterthought and a cause of some of Harley’s misery.  Jonathan’s comments on this disparity were regularly met with angry silencing glares.

“I was gonna ask why Jon was here but clearly somethin’ happened,” Harley scowled, then brightened up to wave at Edward, “HI EDDIE!”

“Hey Harley!” Edward waved, then gestured for Ivy to return to the car.

“You’re not telling her right?” Ivy hissed in a low voice, so Harley wouldn’t hear.

“Why the fuck would I _tell_ her?” Jonathan returned the gesture, “She’d _kill_ me if she found out.”

“Whacha whisperin’ about?” Harley asked, tilting her head to the side.  Jonathan shot Ivy an irritated glare that the redhead gladly returned.

“Did somethin’ happen between you n’ Mr. J?” Harley asked, for probably the third time.

“Oh you could say that,” Ivy smirked.

“Drop it,” Jonathan snapped, stepping around Ivy and heading for the car.

“What?  Don’t wanna tell Harley?” Ivy was getting her usual patronizing tone back, “Scared Jonny?”

Jonathan whirled around, hair standing on end from a mix of irritation and terror.  On the one hand, Ivy wasn’t going to do anything if Harley did find out, on the other, Harley certainly wouldn’t be happy if he blatantly attacked Ivy.

Luckily, Edward came in right at this moment, somehow lifting both Jonathan and Ivy, and carried them to the car.  Evidently, he’d given up the frantic gestures.

“Okay we were in a hurry so it was nice to see you Harley but these two need to come with me,” Edward said, so quickly Jonathan barely comprehended it.

“Bye Eddie!” Harley waved as Jonathan and Ivy were unceremoniously dumped in a pile on the back seat and the car sped off.

Jonathan shook out his head, trying to process what happened when he realized that in his haste, Edward had thrown Jonathan in _on top_ of Ivy and the woman was now glaring at him with the promise of murder.

Or at the very least a bloody nose as she proceeded to elbow Jonathan right on the bridge of his nose, hard.  His nose didn’t break, luckily, but he was thrown off of Ivy and he could tell that he had blood trickling down his face when he righted himself.

“Ow what th’ fuck?” Jonathan yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose, “It ain’t my fault I landed on top a’ ya!”

Ivy growled low and kicked Jonathan in the stomach.

“Fuckin’-” Jonathan coughed and grabbed his abdomen, stunned for a moment, “Will ya just calm down for-” Jonathan caught Ivy’s ankle as she tried to land another kick, “-five seconds!  That’s all I’m askin’!”

“Let go of me!” Ivy screamed, struggling.  Jonathan set his lips in a line and reached forward with his free hand to grab a handful of Ivy’s hair and yank it.

That didn’t help the situation, but at this point?  Jonathan was too irritated to care.  He was already battered because of Jack, nearly had Ivy reveal to Harley that he’d left Jack, had been picked up by a stranger and dropped _on top of her_ , and was now bleeding and even more bruised because Ivy had decided this was all Jonathan’s fault.

He was getting revenge in the pettiest, stupidest way he knew how: fighting like a ten year old.

Except Ivy weighed more than Jonathan and was better at this, not to mention they were in the backseat of a car, so what ended up happening was Jonathan getting pinned to the car seat, tied in place by vines that were no doubt embedded in the cloth, and punched, repeatedly, until he finally bit Ivy’s hand and kicked her into the car seat.  The horn blared loudly and Ivy was thrown across the car as it quickly swerved into an alleyway and Edward whirled around, furious.

“Okay if you two don’t stop, I’m leaving the car on the railroad tracks, taking the keys with me, and locking the door,” he threatened, “I swear to god I’ll do it.  Ivy, sit the fuck down and untie Jon.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Ivy yelled.

“I can if I’m driving.” Edward spat, “Sit.  Down.”

Ivy narrowed her eyes and Edward proceeded to pull a gun from the inside of his suit jacket and point it at her.

“Sit.  Down.”

“Of all the-” Ivy began, but sat down, pouting nonetheless.

“Where are we going?” Edward lowered the gun and turned forward, “Jon?  You pick.”

“Why am I in charge of choosing?” Jonathan asked.

“Because you’re not going to tell me to drive into Gotham Bay,” Edward replied bluntly.

“Have you actually told him to do that?” Jonathan glanced at Ivy, who growled and nodded.  “Alright I’m never letting you drive me anywhere ever again.  How about we start with something simple and go with my apartment, because I’m presently bleeding and I’m pretty sure Ivy’s heels left a sizable gash in my side.  I liked this shirt too.”

Jonathan looked down at the splotch of red that was slowly but surely spreading across his brown shirt.  Ivy looked down at the splotch, then back up at Jonathan’s face.

“Do you feel anything?” she asked.

“Oh no I feel it,” Jonathan shrugged, “but not much.  You seem to forget I was dating the Joker for three years.”

Ivy scowled and sat back, arms crossed, then her face softened.

“Sorry,” she spoke up, “guess I overreacted a little and forgot you were already hurt.”

“I am worried about what you consider overreacting a lot,” Edward raised his voice.

“I’d say Jack’s reaction to the word no,” Jonathan said decisively, making Ivy snort.

“Don’t joke about that,” Edward cut in suddenly.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan snorted, “is there something wrong with me making a joke?”

Edward slammed on the breaks.  There was a pause and Jonathan noticed him breathing slowly.

Angrily.

“Are you gonna answer me or just keep growling at the street?” Jonathan snapped.

“Just don’t joke about it.”

Jonathan set his lips into a line and kicked the back of Edward’s seat.

“Do that again and you’ll have a bullet in your skull,” Edward snarled.

“Yeah and you’ll have a homicidal clown after you,” Jonathan retorted.

“Speaking of clowns,” Ivy commented looking out the back window, “doesn’t he have a purple car?”

“It’s behind us isn’t it?” Jonathan guessed.

“Yep,” Ivy nodded.

“Yeah I think now’s a good time to say I was only half-joking about that no thing,” Jonathan pointed out, “Ivy can I drive?”

“Are you gonna wreck my car?” Ivy asked.  The vines lifted off of Jonathan and he stretched.

“No promises but I’ll try not to hit anything,” Jonathan replied, climbing over the partition and sitting himself down comfortably on Edward’s lap, “hold my waist Ed.”

“Firstly, don’t call me Ed,” Edward scowled, “secondly, what are you doing?”

“Ever drag raced?” Jonathan asked.

“Oh Jon please don’t introduce the poor boy to your hellish driving the first time he’s in a car with you.” Jonathan could practically see Ivy’s head sink into her hands.

“WHY ARE YOU LETTING HIM DRIVE?” Edward raised his voice.

“Because I know how to lose Jack,” Jonathan answered, pulling Edward’s arms around his waist, “hold me and make sure I don’t go flying.  Ivy, seatbelt on.”

“Ok Evil Knievel.”

Jonathan grinned wide and slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle speeding forwards.

* * *

 

He was going to die.  Edward was completely sure of it.

He didn’t need to check the speedometer (which was broken anyway) or look outside to know they were going far over the speed limit and the driver, whose torso Edward was currently gripping for dear life, was driving far too recklessly.  And his laughter, loud and crow-like, was not helping.

“Having fun Questions?” Ivy asked from the backseat, where she was holding onto the seat in front of her to keep steady.

“WHY DOES HE DRIVE LIKE THIS?” Edward yelled.

“Kid’s addicted to adrenaline I don’t know what you expected,” Ivy shrugged.

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM?”

“He’s not drunk.”

Edward shuddered involuntarily and screwed his eyes shut, completely forgetting who or what he was holding so tightly and burying his face into the weirdly soft cloth in front of him, trying to focus on the ribs digging into his forehead, rather than the speed of the car.

When the vehicle finally screeched to a halt, he became aware that the cackling laugh had not stopped, only gotten slightly less manic and more hysterical.

And then it dawned on him.

“Oh my god I needed that,” Jonathan gasped through peals of laughter, “that’s fuckin’ adorable y’all’re adorable I needed that.”

Jonathan opened the door and hopped out, still grinning but keeping a lid on his laughter.  Edward stumbled out of the car, noticed that his jacket and pants now sported red stains, and swore, loudly.

Jonathan stopped laughing and his grin slowly faded, eyes travelling from the stains to somewhere behind Edward.

“You didn’t lose him?” Ivy’s panicked tone said a lot more than the click of a revolver wheel did, but both made the message quite clear.  Jonathan’s face paled and his eyes widened.  There was a split second where Jonathan stepped toward Edward before he was face down on the ground, a loud bang and a scream of pain resounding in his ears.

Then sirens, the taste of metal, a hand palm down on the pavement next to him, covered in blood.

Then yelling, two people screaming over each other, one in fury and the other in panic, a man and a woman, something about betrayal, ungratefulness, words that sent bile rising in Edward’s throat as his mind tried to fight off an impending blackness.  His head had hit the asphalt so hard he could feel the bruise forming over his temple.

The yelling faded slowly, then his vision, until he only heard one name.

Jonathan.

And then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....I shot Jon.  
>  I shot Jon.  
> Why.


	4. Chapter 4

Edward opened his eyes to a flash of white, making him flinch and shut them for a moment, before slowly waiting for the spots to fade from his eyelids.  There was a controlled click and a door creaked open.

“He’s in here, hasn’t woken up yet,” a voice, an older man, informed an unknown second person, “are you sure you’re okay walking upright?  Your stitches have barely set in.”

“I’ll be fine,” the second, also a man, albeit slightly younger, replied, “I’ve been through worse, you know that.”  Footsteps from bare feet slapped their way into the room and the door creaked shut with another controlled click.

“God it smells more like chemicals than Jack.” A shadow covered Edward’s eyes and he slowly opened them.  Jonathan, dressed in what looked like borrowed scrubs, was leaning over him, smirking triumphantly despite being almost completely covered in bandages.

“Oh god you look awful,” Edward couldn’t help but smirk, “what happened?”

“Oh Joker almost shot you in the back of the head,” Jonathan shrugged, “I managed to get you on the ground and move the gun before he fired.  Bullet went through my hand though.”  Jonathan held up his hand and showed Edward the thick, padded bandage over his palm.

“Why did I hear yelling?” -Edward sat up, slowly, his head was pounding.

“Joker might’ve been kinda mad that I was sitting on your lap,” Jonathan shrugged, “it’s all good though, he’s back in Arkham.  Safely under lock and key for about a week until they fuck up and give him something stupid like batteries.”

“And you are?” Edward raised an eyebrow.

“Still under breakout immunity, just got a speeding ticket and I gotta pay a fine for driving a vehicle I don’t have a license for.”

“You don’t have a driver’s license?”

“I own a motorcycle; why would I need a regular license?”

Edward raised his eyebrows, he really couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Okay so,” Jonathan clapped his hands together, “is that security system still a viable option?”

“Yeah,” Edward nodded, “I mean I kinda owe you now.”

“By that logic I owe Batman at least sixteen favors,” Jonathan pointed out, “but then again by that logic...oh cool Nightwing and Red Hood owe me favors.”

“Can I ask you something?” Edward asked.

“About Joker?” Jonathan guessed.

“Yeah.”

“Shoot.”

“You said half-serious when you made that joke.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s true.”

Jonathan’s hand rose to brush his fingertips against a spot on his lower neck, exposing a flash of black on his inside wrist.  Edward frowned, briefly.  He hadn’t really been paying much attention to Jonathan this whole time, maybe he’d been too distracted by the huge bruise on his cheek to really notice that there was one glaring detail about him that didn’t quite match up.

“How many tattoos do you have?” Edward blurted out, then covered his mouth when he realized what he’d said, and particularly how he’d said it, in this tone that indicated some form of mild disbelief or maybe disapproval.  Jonathan looked at Edward for a few moments and his eyes briefly flicked to the inside of his wrist before he shrugged.

“I lost count,” he admitted, “I actually don’t remember getting a few of them.  Wanna see a few favorites?”

Edward drew his lips into a line.

“The ones in appropriate places,” Jonathan clarified quickly.

“Sure,” Edward nodded slowly, “what do you mean ‘appropriate places’?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Jonathan replied, lifting his shirt over his head.

Jonathan was a lot thinner than his baggy clothes implied, though what wasn’t skin stretched over bone was a whole mess of long, lean muscle.  Covering a good portion of his skin was a myriad of different tattoos, all in monochromatic black ink.  Jonathan glanced up at Edward’s face and flashed a smirk, making Edward acutely aware that he was gawking.

“Jack thought it would be cute if we both had tattoos,” Jonathan explained, “you might notice that this was also something he did with Harley.”

Edward nodded, recalling that Harley was similarly tattooed, as was Joker.

“So which ones are your favorites?” Edward asked.

Wordlessly, Jonathan began picking the pieces out from the menagerie.  A spade, intricately filled in as if it were the ace, on his inside wrist, a small bird behind his left ear (Edward assumed that it was what he’d gone up to touch a few moments before), a detailed Jolly Roger styled skull on his hip, some Lovecraftian thing circling its tentacles around his navel (when Edward asked what it was, he got “Cthulhu” as a response, confirming this suspicion), and to end it all, a huge, beautiful tattoo of a tree growing from a heart on his upper back.  It was, by far, the largest piece, and Edward suddenly felt compelled to say something about it.  It was beautiful.

“Ain’t it?” Jonathan grinned, making Edward realize he’d said the words aloud.  “When Jack said he’d pay for them himself, I asked if we could do this one first; he was so ecstatic that I wanted such a large piece that we went out the next day and got it.  It wasn’t his favorite of course, but he liked it.”

“Why does Jack matter?” Edward asked.  Jonathan paused, the smile on his face fading slowly, and his posture shrank in.  Edward swallowed, that was the wrong question to ask.  This whole span of two days had been a mess of Edward trying to get little details out of Jonathan without realizing that his method was probably not the way to go about comforting him.  He didn’t want to ask anyone else, the closest he had to a reliable source was Ivy and even then, just a car ride with her was unbearably quiet and suffocating, he couldn’t imagine what trying to ask her a question would be like, much less several.

But something about Jonathan’s reactions just didn’t sit right with Edward.  He seemed...too distant.  Naturally anything this jarring could make a person break down but, it was still weird.

Jonathan abruptly threw his shirt back on and walked out.

“The nurses said I couldn’t be up and about for very long,” he explained quickly as he opened the door, “I’ll see you around I guess.”

Jonathan left, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

 

Jonathan felt like he was going to vomit.  It was that piercing pain kind of vomit feeling too.  He managed to make it to a trash can before emptying whatever was actually in his stomach and holding back a scream that tried tearing its way out with the bile.

“Okay to walk around my ass,” a familiar and harsh voice sounded behind Jonathan.

“You are the last person I want to talk to,” Jonathan glared back at Ivy, who was standing there with her arms crossed.

“I think I’m the first person you need to talk to,” Ivy argued, then her face softened, “let’s get back to your room.”

Ivy propped Jonathan up on one shoulder and led him back to his room in silence.  When they arrived, Ivy sat Jonathan down and ran a single hand through his hair.

“It’s been about a day,” she commented, “is that idiot already asking his pressing questions?”

“I’m not sure he knows better,” Jonathan replied as he ducked out from under Ivy’s hand, “please don’t touch my hair.”

“Right,” Ivy pulled her hand back, “it’s soft.”

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair.  He’d heard that countless times, from doting adults as he was dragged through Arlen, pretty much anyone Jonathan ever knew intimately, good friends, but most importantly: Jack.

That vomit feeling came back.

Edward was right, Jack was in everything about Jonathan’s being.  His tattoos were Jack’s idea, Jack had loved Jonathan’s hair, not to mention that a good portion of Jonathan’s clothes and jewelry were bought by Jack as a gift.  A knot formed in Jonathan’s stomach.  He wasn’t sure he could really put this three-year-long torture behind him.

“It’s not going to feel better immediately,” Ivy piped up, “living without him.  Trust me, it takes time.  Especially if they’ve affected you so much.  I know from experience.”  Ivy glanced down at her hands, neatly folded in her lap and holding one of Jonathan’s.  “You’ve been picking at your scars again,” she observed, noticing a band-aid plastered over a spot in Jonathan’s arm.  In all the commotion, Jonathan had scarcely recalled that it was even there.

“I pick at them all the time,” Jonathan, tugged his hand away, placing his other hand over top of the band-aid, “it’s no big deal.”

“They aren’t going to fade if you keep reopening them,” Ivy pointed out.

“Well maybe I don’t want them to fade,” Jonathan shrugged, “I don’t really care if people know I’ve been hurt or not.”

“And,” Ivy continued, taking Jonathan’s arm from him and gently peeling the band-aid off, “it does you no good you make yourself bleed.”

Jonathan looked down at the scabbed over gash.  He’d reopened it during some sleepless night, accidentally, of course.  He wasn’t sure where this one was from, never bothered to memorize the origin of any of his scars, it just didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.  Why remember each painful memory in vivid detail?  As far as Jonathan was concerned, it was better to remember pain as a blur, especially after Jack.  God he wished he could remember Jack as a blur, but at the same time, he didn’t.

“I know I give him more crap than I should, but you should give Ed a chance,” Ivy added suddenly, digging out another band-aid and placing it over the scab, “he’s not the best socially but he is brilliant.  Jervis seems to like him well enough.”

“Jervis isn’t always the best judge of character,” Jonathan pointed out.

“And he’s also friends with your landlord,” Ivy pointed out, “look, I know he’s...completely clueless about romantic relationships, but I think if you give him time, he might be able to grasp it a little.”

“Might,” Jonathan reasoned.

“And,” Ivy continued loudly, “you have more in common than you think.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more on the subject.

“How’s Harley?” he asked.

“A little battered, Jack wasn’t that angry, thankfully.”

“She’ll be fine then?”

“Just because she’ll be fine doesn’t mean I want her wandering back to that psychopath.”

“Are you trying to talk her out of it?”

“Yes, and let me tell you, it is really hard keeping this all a secret from her.  Why can’t she know?”

Jonathan set his lips into a line, considering the best way to word his answer.

“You can say that it’s for your own safety, I know she’s spastic about anyone possibly harming her precious Mr. J.”

Jonathan looked at Ivy and raised an eyebrow.

“And I’m not that spastic about Harley’s safety.”

“Mmhm,” Jonathan nodded, “when are you gonna tell her?”

“What?” Ivy got a panicked look on her face.

“Ivy you’re about as subtle as a trainwreck about how much you like Harley,” Jonathan explained, “when are you planning to tell her?”

“I-” Ivy began, then shook her head slowly, “I can’t tell her.”

“A word of advice from an avoidant,” Jonathan poked Ivy’s head, “don’t internalize this one.  Harley’s clueless and stubborn, not stupid.  She’ll only ignore what she doesn’t want to believe for so long.”

“I guess you two have that in common,” Ivy teased.

“I just admitted that I’m an avoidant.  Emotions are hard, avoiding them is easier.”

“Except when you can get a rush out of them.”

“True, true.”

Ivy leaned back and glanced at Jonathan.

“Pact to not speak about the break up to Harley?” she suggested.

“Without a doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAACK  
> Seriously I just finished chapter 7 of this.  
> Also I would like to that Quince for panicking last chapter I found it very funny because YOU SHALL SEE.  
> Also yes this "keeping the breakup from Harley" is a plot point and it will come back.


	5. Chapter 5

There was only one day in the spring the Jonathan actually looked forward to: May 30th, the day his Great Grandmother died.  For some strange reason, Jonathan had always fancied the date as a sort of celebration, and while most people were a little put off by the tradition, Ivy and Jervis were always happy to help Jonathan celebrate.

“Why is everything from the South swimming in gravy or meat?” Ivy asked, “Or both.  God is there anything vegan here?”

“Hey, I replaced the meat in the chili with fake meat,” Jonathan argued, “I’m not replacing anything else.  Besides, I think we’re upsetting Great Granny’s ghost enough today.”  Ivy glanced at Jonathan, rolled her eyes, and muttered something about fake meat being a cheap way to avoid removing the meat entirely.

“I’m gonna upset her ghost a little more,” Jervis remarked, eyes locked on his phone.

“Oh, god what did you do?” Jonathan asked.  Jervis let out a low whistle and held up his phone, where he was having a conversation with someone labelled “Dormouse”.  Jonathan paused for a few minutes and crossed his arms.

“Who’s the Dormouse?” he asked.

“I think Nygma would be a little put off by all this Jerv,” Ivy pointed out.

“YOU INVITED THE RIDDLER?” Jonathan raised his voice.

“Oh come now, it could be worse,” Jervis raised his eyebrows, “I could be inviting Cheshire.  Eddie wouldn’t react too badly to this.  If anything, he’d be completely understanding.”

“You’re so sure about that?” Ivy raised her eyebrows.

“I’m amazed you don’t discredit Jon but you’ll discredit Eddie so easily,” Jervis scoffed.

“Why are you two like this?” Jon muttered, leaning on the counter and rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Seriously, why?  You bicker like the batkids.”

“The violent ones,” Ivy agreed.

“Especially the smallest one,” Jervis nodded, “I have to wonder how he got to be so violent.”

“I have one word for you,” Ivy answered simply, “Talia.”

There was a knock at the door and Jonathan glanced at it, then back at Ivy and Jervis.

“Eerily fast,” Ivy noted, a little confused.

Following this was a careful thud and retreating footsteps.

“Jack,” Jonathan said decisively.

“Jack,” Ivy agreed, making her way towards the door and pulling it open.

“Is it wrapped?” Jonathan asked.

“In bright purple paper,” Ivy nodded.

“Patterned?”

“No.”

“Metallic?”

“Yep.”

“Is there a bow or ribbon of some kind?”

“No.”

“It’s a gift, a benign one.”

“You memorized how he wraps various things?”

“If it was a bomb he would’ve used patterned paper, if it was a weapon it’d be newspaper or brown paper, if it was just a box whatever he put in it would be a living animal, or a person sometimes he sent police officers, metallic means he thinks I’d like it though the context of that is...hazy, and if it had a ribbon it was something dangerous, or bugs.”

“Jon, that’s terrifying.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

“Are you going to leave it here?”

Jonathan stared blankly at Ivy.

“I like presents,” he said.

“But it’s from Joker.”

“I don’t care; I like presents.”

“You’re going to take a present from an ex because you like presents?”

“Yes.”

“I will never understand you.”

“That’s nice.”

Ivy picked up the present and placed it on the counter, looking at Jonathan expectantly.

“The door Pam.”

Ivy rolled her eyes and kicked the door shut with one foot as Jonathan, in one fluid motion, ripped off most of the paper and considered the cardboard box underneath.

“What is it?” Ivy asked.

“It’s a box.”

“Jon.”

Jonathan smirked and used one of his few long nails to cut through the sloppy masking tape and opened the box.

“Well?” Jervis asked.

“Someone tell Jack that flowers should not be boxed,” Jonathan commented, lifting a vase full of dark blue flowers.

“Is that belladonna?” Ivy asked.

“Yes,” Jonathan nodded, “Jack thinks it’s funny to give me drugs.”

“I’ll take them,” Ivy took the vase from Jonathan, “I doubt you need any more toxins in your apartment.”

“Yeah, I’m completely immune to most toxins from a mix of Jack constantly drugging me, interacting with you, and self-testing fear toxin.”

“Oh that’s healthy.”

“Wow Ivy, I didn’t know it isn’t normal for human beings to have a high tolerance for toxins and drugs, I thought we were all like you.”

Ivy set her lips into an annoyed line, but sat down calmly beside Jervis with the vase still in her lap.

“He’s outside,” Jervis spoke up, “didn’t want to knock.”

“The door’s open!” Jonathan yelled, and the door slowly creaked open.

“Should I assume the worst of this woman that three people annually celebrate the death of?” Edward asked almost immediately.

“I’d say the worst is pretty accurate,” Jonathan nodded, “how are you?”

“Overall?” Edward frowned contemplatively, “I’m not dead.”

“Not dead is a start,” Jonathan nodded.

“Other than that...well my roommate’s five seconds away from kicking me out and your ex is stalking me, unrelated.”

“Sorry about the psychotic ex.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

Edward looked around the apartment briefly and paused, eyes locked on something buried among the junk Jonathan frequently tossed behind the stove.  After a moment, he reached around Jonathan, getting uncomfortably close to him, and retrieved the item, a half empty bag of sunflower seeds.

“I thought you had cats,” Edward frowned, staring at the seeds with confusion.

“Oh! Craw’s seeds!” Jonathan snatched the bag from Edward, “Here I’ll introduce you.”

* * *

 

Edward was dragged into a second bedroom where the door had been left ajar. Sitting against one wall was a huge wooden framed thing that, judging by the contents, was probably some sort of bird cage.

As for the contents, save for a few small pecked up toys there were two bright eyed birds with sleek, iridescent black feathers, a raven and a crow.

“Hold these,” Jonathan handed Edward the bag of stale, ranch-flavored seeds, opened the door to the cage, and extended a hand, making a weird clicking noise in the back of his throat that the raven, a huge beautiful creature, echoed.

It was the raven that hopped down onto Jonathan’s arm and he removed it from the cage.

“I was trying to get Craw out but she’ll do,” Jonathan smiled, “say hello darling.”

“Hello,” the raven mimicked.

“You have birds?” Edward frowned.

“Oh just these two,” Jonathan shrugged, “they’re lovely aren’t they?  This is Nightmare, the crow’s Craw.”

“Odd name,” Edward smiled a little in spite of himself.

“Here,” Jonathan pulled out Edward’s arm and carefully maneuvered Nightmare onto it, “don’t lock your elbow, and keep your arm bent. She doesn’t like it when you’re shaking.”

Jonathan made eye contact with Edward for a few minutes, one hand still supporting the arm Nightmare was perched on cautiously.  For a moment, everything seemed to glaze over and Edward found himself staring directly into Jonathan’s piercing blue eyes.  And then they wandered, noticing little white scratches on Jonathan’s neck, a big firm one across his throat and small ones to match, some more faded than others.

“Jack,” Jonathan raised his hand to the large white scratch on his throat, “the rest were pissed off cr-You’re shaking.”

Edward looked down and found that his arms had indeed begun shaking, and Nightmare wasn’t looking very happy.

“Look,” Jonathan lifted Nightmare off of Edward’s arm, “I think you can tell already that Jack’s not the only human being who’s treated me poorly, but I didn’t think it would scare you.”

“It’s the fact that you can be so calm about it,” Edward replied, then bit his lip.  His voice was starting to tremor.

“I learned,” Jonathan shrugged, “you always learn, eventually.  At least you learn to cope with your personal pain.  I still shudder at what happened to Ivy, but I’ll save that for-”

Jonathan cut off suddenly as he shut Nightmare back in her cage.

“They left,” he muttered, edging around Edward and entering the main room, “they just walked out.”

Edward’s heart sank hearing the sad edge to Jonathan’s voice.

“I’m still here,” Edward added, trying to lighten the mood, “and Ivy did have that plant.”

“Mm,” Jonathan nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Are you okay?” Edward reached to put a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Water,” Jonathan choked out, beginning to take shallower, gasping breaths.  Edward quickly scrambled into the kitchen and checked the fridge, trying to single out a water bottle that hadn’t been refilled with vodka as Jonathan began, ever so slowly, to break down.  He gave up and grabbed a large gallon jug when he heard a blood curling scream rip through the house that send shivers up Edward’s spine.

Edward slammed the fridge door shut and hurried back to where Jonathan had collapsed on the doorway.

“Here,” he took off the jug’s cap and handed it to Jonathan, who began taking huge gulps of it and barely breathing between, “breathe, you need to breathe.”

Jonathan slammed the half-empty jug onto the floor and leaned his forehead on Edward’s shoulder.

“Why are you bothering with me?” he asked between deep, heaving breaths.  Edward considered this, but found that he had no answer that came to mind.

“I suppose that’s a riddle,” Edward shrugged, “I’ll get back to you once I know the answer.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan smiled, “that sounds like a plan.”

A silence welled up, with nothing but Jonathan’s heavy breathing breaking it.

“How long have you had episodes like this?” Edward asked.

“That was just a panic attack,” Jonathan replied, “I think via snooping you found my medication, right?”

“So, if strong anti-anxiety doesn’t prevent you from panicking, what does?”

“You should see the dosage I’m on when I’m in Arkham.”

“They sedate everyone in Arkham.”

“Fair enough.”

Another silence brewed, and for a moment, Edward considered how he’d been speaking with someone whose entire mindset was so calculatingly calm that the mere idea of him cracking in two and breaking down was nearly unthinkable, and yet...

And yet it was all a farce, however calm, or stoic, or unshakably happy Jonathan came off, he was still the same as Edward inwardly: precariously on the verge of falling apart.

“You don’t have to stay here,” Jonathan commented.

“I don’t,” Edward agreed, “but just because I don’t have to do something doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“You’re weird.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Thank you.”

Edward didn’t reply, some odd mix of shock and joy had left him at a loss for words.  Seldom did anyone show him that kind of gratitude, most of them just commented “you don’t need to help” and left it at that, waiting impatiently for him to leave.  Maybe it was a little upsetting that there was never any kindness shown, but Edward did his best to let it roll off his back, a practice that rarely, if ever, did him any real good.

“Hey,” Edward glanced down, “I hate to bother you, but in the interest of not incurring my roommate’s wrath, could I stay the night?”

Jonathan didn’t reply for a few minutes, and a silence began to brew up.

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“You mean it?”

“Actually, let me reword that,” Jonathan sat up completely, “I wasn’t planning on letting you leave.”

Edward let out a soft sigh, Jonathan’s eyes were red and puffy.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he noted.  Jonathan’s expression went icily cold.

“Don’t say that,” he got to his feet and began walking away.

“What?” Edward half-turned in the direction Jonathan was walking.  Jonathan heaved a loud sigh and cleared his throat.

“You need to be taking better care of yourself Jonny,” Jonathan screeched in a high-pitched, mocking tone that reminded Edward, quite strikingly, of Joker.

“Oh,” Edward shrunk in, “sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Jonathan replied simply, entering his bedroom and slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -clapping loudly- ANXIETY IS SO MUCH FUN ANXIETY IS SO MUCH FUN
> 
> No it isn't.
> 
> Take care of yourselves kids.
> 
> ALSO YES BOTH BIRDS ARE IN THIS FIC AND I TOTALLY DID GET THEIR SPECIES WRONG BUT IDGAF YOU CAN'T HAVE A MAGPIE AS A PET AS PER THE MBTA.
> 
> But you can have a pied crow and a white-necked raven and that's what Jon has. Good birds.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon tapped a nail against the countertop, it was making a clicking noise that was distracting Edward to hell and back.  Not that he was doing anything particularly important it was just distracting as all hell and he wanted it to stop.

Edward was certain that Jon knew it was irritating too, because he was smirking at his phone and every so often glancing up at Edward.

“What are you doing that could possibly warrant that much tapping?” Edward finally asked.

“Well originally I was yelling at Jervis but eventually I just wanted to see how long it would take before you said something.  You’re very tolerant, I must say.”

“You jackass,” Edward scowled.

“Well thank you,” Jon smirked, raising up a single eyebrow and then breaking into cackling laughter.  Edward stared at Jon for a few minutes.

He had a very strangely likable laugh.

“Do you always use your friends as psychology experiments?” Edward asked.

“Yup,” Jon nodded, “not often mind, and it certainly depends on the person.”

“Never did it with Joker did you?”

“Jack could tell, and he didn’t like my mini experiments.”

“Oh,” Edward nodded, “I see.”

“You okay?”

Edward glanced at Jon and shuddered at the concern on his face.

“Yeah,” Edward nodded, turning his attention back to his hands, “I’m just fine.”

Jon leaned forward and watched Edward carefully for a few seconds.

“How do you feel about dogs?” he asked.

“Dogs?”

“Yeah, Firefly, you know, Garfield Lynns?  He’s got a huge Newfoundland named Rusty who’s a trained therapy dog.  He lives like, a block down.”

“And you’re willing to leave the apartment right now?”

“I need to leave the house period or I’m gonna scream and then Craw’s gonna scream and it’s just going to be an all-around bad time.”

“But when you were freaking out before-wait do you scream a lot?”

“No but I’m getting a little antsy.  Can we go?”

“Don’t you need to sleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

“You’re not tired?”

“Nope.”

Edward stared at Jonathan, who was starting to fidget slightly.

“Okay yeah let’s go see Garfield,” Edwards nodded, “that sounds like a good, safe, explanatory plan.”

“Great!”

Jon made for the door and almost forgot to lock it, as in Edward had to remind him, and then checked at least three times that Jon hadn’t forgotten his keys.  Edward exhaled slowly.

“This is a bad time for this,” Jon muttered, looking at the empty street, still fidgeting, “really bad time.”

“What?” Edward asked, “Are you having a panic attack again?”

“You just saw me having a panic attack,” Jon replied, “it is not a panic attack, you know it isn’t and you’re trying to figure it out, right?”

Edward nodded, hurrying to keep up with Jon, who was walking faster than normal and his eyes were shifting around quickly.

“Is there someone actually following us?” Jon asked, gesturing with his head, “In the alley across from us, is there someone there?”

Edward leaned around to where Jon had gestured.  The alleyway was empty, almost eerily so.

“Are you-?” Edward began then shifted around in front of Jon, “Are you hallucinating?”

“Well I’m not actually sure, but I might be,” Jon nodded quickly, “that’s part of the reason we’re going to see Garfield because I left my meds at his house and can we please just keep going?”

“I-What?” Edward stepped aside and continued following Jon, a little more concerned than before, “What meds?  I thought you only took anti-anxiety.”

“Most of the time.”

“ _What do you mean most of the time?_ ”

“Most of the time, I don’t need to take anything else.”

“I am so concerned, are you okay?  Are you high?”

Jon turned back to Edward and raised his eyebrows, then turned to the building next to it.

“I think it’s this one.”

“You think.”

“85 percent sure.”

Before Edward could reply the door opened, with an extremely short man in the doorway, staring at the fidgeting Jon.  Edward knew it was Garfield almost instantly, the firebug had a large, distinct burn scar on his left arm that was hard to miss.

“You left them here again,” Garfield guessed, leaning on the doorframe, “didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jon nodded, “can we come in?”

“Considering the state you’re in?” Garfield laughed, “Of course.  Is Enigma coming in too?”

“Yep.”

“Great.  Did you tell him?”

Jon didn’t answer and hurried inside.  Garfield stared at Edward for a few seconds before rolling his eyes.

“Never met one?” he asked.

“One what?” Edward frowned, “Is Jon okay?”

“Yeah he’s fine,” Garfield nodded, “he just has phases like this, they’re normal.”

“That’s normal?”

“You’ve never met a person with bipolar disorder before, have you?”

“I-What?”

“Yeah, Jon’s bipolar, it’s not bad-scratch that it’s severe, you know when he’s out on heists and goes on those ‘god among men’ and ‘master of fear’ rambles?”

“You wanna start a fight firebug?” Jon yelled from inside the apartment.

“I thought he was just, you know, delusional,” Edward nodded.

“Well, he is,” Garfield agreed, “during manic states.”

A large dog pushed past Garfield’s leg and the man grabbed its collar quickly.

“You might wanna come in before Rusty makes a break for it,” Garfield suggested, “Jon you’d better be taking your meds or I’m forcing them down your throat.”

“I am!”

Edward walked into the townhouse and realized that there wasn’t just one very large dog, there were several.  It was an entire army of very large dogs, all up to Edward’s waist, all very happy to see Edward, wagging their tails and drooling.

It was terrifying.

“Why do you have so many dogs?” Edward asked.

“Leland said taking care of pets helps with his impulses,” Jon stepped around and leaned on the doorframe, a pill bottle in his hand, “it does, just not well.”

“They’re friendly,” Garfield insisted, reaching around to shut the door.  A low whistle came from upstairs and the army of dogs stampeded up to find the source.

“Hey guys!  Did you miss me?”

Edward almost snorted at Jon’s tone of voice, he sounded like a little kid.

“Don’t you have your own pets Jon?” Garfield asked.

Edward climbed the small flight of stairs and snorted at the sight of Jon, all six feet and three inches of the bony man, childishly trying to pet every single excited dog at once, and making them even more excited by gibbering on in a cheerful, high pitched voice.

“This is the same man that gases the subway during manic states,” Garfield pointed out, nonchalantly passing the event, “isn’t he charming?”

“He’s in his thirties right?”

“My guy he may be thirty-five but he has been in the Lazarus Pit at least once.  What was it Jon?  Drinking contest with R’as al Ghul or was that a lie to keep Jack from finding out about Lyndon?”

“Oh, Jack can’t know about Lyndon, but I had that drinking contest,” Jon replied, ducking under a dog that had fur the same color as his hair, “Ed, Lyndon is my great-great-uncle, he’s friends with R’as al Ghul, like immortality friends.”

“I’m not questioning that,” Edward shook his head, “it would explain why you look about twenty.”

“I’ve gotten younger,” Jon shrugged, “I’ve also had Hugo Strange flirt with me, not recommended, very uncomfortable.”

“Very,” Garfield agreed with a curt nod.  Edward glanced at Garfield.  He had never seen the firebug without his mask or up close, and if Jon looked twenty, Garfield looked about sixteen.  He was about the height of a teenager and dressed roughly the same way too, with the addition of maybe three facial piercings and a few too many ear piercings for Edward’s taste.

“I have one on my tongue too,” Garfield stuck out his tongue, where a stud in the shape of a butterfly was stuck right through, “Drury got me it for my birthday.”

“Go out with him,” Jon suggested, “he’s been pining for at least a week.”

“I-uh,” Edward was more than a little surprised that Garfield had recognized what Edward was staring at, but realized that was probably because people stared at Garfield’s piercings.  What was more surprising was that Jon had somehow returned to the Jonathan Crane he recognized.

Before anything else could be said, a knock sounded at the door and Garfield glanced over to it.  After the knock came a distinct rhythm of knocks that Edward didn’t quite like, and Garfield froze.

“Okay Jon, Mr. Nygma,” he turned towards them, forcing a grin onto his face, “I’m going to ask that you go into the bathroom and lock the door.”

Jon nodded and, grabbing Edward in a chokehold, marched into the bathroom and locked the door.

“So are you going to explain?” Edward asked in a hushed voice.

“Come on in,” Garfield’s voice drifted through the door, Edward could hear at least one dog growling.  There was a slam as if the door was nearly knocked off its hinges and a shudder went up Edward’s spine.  “I said ‘come in’ not ‘break the door’.  Were you raised in a barn?”

“Where the fuck is he Lynns?”

Edward swallowed.

Joker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost never do cliffhangers but lbrh, that sudden mood drop did not fit in this chapter.
> 
> Also yes, I headcanon Jon as bipolar.


	7. Chapter 7

If there was anything you could give Garfield credit for, it was the fact that he wasn’t afraid of Joker.  Garfield wasn’t afraid of most of the rogues but not being afraid of Joker was a feat Garfield had garnered alongside Ivy.

There was a crash, and Rusty started barking.

“Where is he Lynns?” Jack shouted.

“You know you could not break my stuff,” Garfield remarked.

“I’ll break you if you don’t tell me where Jon is.  I know he’s here, I put a tracker on him last time I ran into him.”

“You’re _stalking_ him?” Garfield raised his voice.

Jon shifted and felt for where that tracker Jack was talking about might be before Edward carefully removed his glasses and slipped a barely noticeable chip off one of the arms without a word.  Jon mouthed a thank you and shifted to listen to the argument.

“Where is he Garfield?”

“I don’t need to tell you that,” Garfield replied.

“That stupid knockoff is here too, isn’t he?”

“He has a name.”

“I don’t give a shit if he has a name.  Jon’s mine!”

“EXCUSE ME?”

Edward almost fell back from the door in surprise.

“Pretty loud for a shrimp,” Jon whispered with a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” Garfield continued, his fury plain, “since when did an entire human being with his own thoughts and feelings become your personal fucking property?  I’m afraid you don’t really grasp the fact that Jon’s not going to come crawling back this time.  It’s over Jack, now get out of my house.”

The room went silent and for a moment Jon thought the altercation was over, until Rusty started barking again.

“I said get out,” Garfield repeated.

“You wanna hide him?” Jack snarled, “Fine, I know where you hide people anyway.”

Something struck the bathroom door with a loud bang and Jon scrambled back, not caring how much noise he made.  Jack already knew he was in there, there was no point.  There was another bang and shouting from Garfield mixed with Rusty barking before, with a crack as the lock broke, the door flew open.  Jon yelped and shrank in, quickly covering his head and screwing his eyes shut.  He didn’t want to see Jack’s face, he could practically see it already.

“Leave him alone!” Edward spoke up.  Jon opened his eyes slightly and realized that Edward was standing between him and Jack.

“I don’t need heroics,” Jack snapped, “get out of the way Riddler, Jonny’s mine.”

“Get.  Out.”

Jack considered this for a moment, then swung a bat at Edward’s head.  In a split second, Jonathan pushed off the bathtub and grabbed the bat before it made contact.  Jon pushed the bat back into Jack’s face with a crunch, then pulled it out of the clown’s hands.

“Get out,” Jon said firmly, “you were told twice, you won’t be warned again.”

Jack held his broken nose and snarled, “You little shit.”

“You’ve got three seconds,” Jon held up the bat, ready to swing, “and four limbs.  How many do you want to limp away with?”

Jack glared at Jon, but ran off.  Jon waited a few seconds before letting out a shaky sigh and lowering the bat.

“You okay Gar?” he asked.

“Jack wasn’t trying to hurt me,” Garfield shrugged, walking into view, “I was keeping Rusty from mauling him.  Is Nygma okay?”

“No,” Edward squeaked out.  Jon turned towards Edward and twirled the bat in his hands.

“Ooh fancy,” he complimented, holding up the bat, “This could go for over a hundred bucks...oh, thanks, by the way.”

Edward looked at Jon, and his tense position relaxed a bit.

“I should be thanking you,” he admitted, “god what was I thinking?  Joker already thinks I’m trying to steal Batman from him like they’re a married couple he’s just going to think the same thing about-what?”

Jon was trying to find the words to respond to Edward’s rambling, but couldn’t exactly find them.

Garfield, however, apparently could.

“Are you in love?”

“No!” Edward said, a little too quickly, “I mean, not that you’re not attractive Jon you _are_ but I just-this is all coming out wrong.  I’m sorry I’m stupid.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Edward beat the sides of his head with each repetition of the word and sank slowly to the ground, curling into a ball.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I just need some time alone.”

“Okay,” Jon leaned the bat on the wall next to Edward and started out of the bathroom, but turned back at the door, “I don’t think you’re stupid Ed.”

Garfield shut the door as best he could and glanced at Jon, his lips in a line.

“Don’t give me that look,” Jon sighed, walking over and dropping Jack’s tracker down the garbage disposal and turning it on, “I barely know anything about him.”

“Oh well all the same, he knows next to nothing about you,” Garfield hopped up on the counter, “I don’t know many friends of yours who don’t at least know about Lyndon.  I’m surprised you two didn’t become friends sooner.  You fit together like two peas in a pod.”

“So do you and Drury,” Jon shrugged, “why haven’t you brought it up with him?”

“Look Drury’s great and all and he’s really sweet but I’m not sure I can deal with another romantic relationship,” Garfield shrugged, “I just-the last one didn’t end all that well.”

“You set him on fire, if I recall,” Jon nodded.

“I just don’t want to get pushed into anything I don’t want.”

“Drury knows, right?”

“Of course, he knows, I just don’t know if he’ll accept it.”

“Drury’s not the type to force you,” Jon pointed out, “plus, you never had problems with me.”

“It wasn’t necessary with you.  Besides, we dated for like, a month before you started with Jack.”

“It’s your call Gar,” Jon shrugged, “Drury’s sweet but I know you’re gonna have trouble with relationships no matter what.  That’s what Rusty’s for, right?”

Garfield nodded, “It is.”

“Anyway,” Jon shut off the garbage disposal, “thanks for keeping my meds for me.”

“No problem, not like we need you manic for two weeks,” Garfield smirked, “and um, call Ed, you know, when you start to crash.  To my memory your medication only stabilizes your manic states.”

“I will,” Jon nodded, “don’t worry I’m not an idiot.”

“Sometimes I wonder about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA EDSARROGANCEISANILLUSIONANDIMAHORRIBLEPERSONWHATELSEISNEW
> 
> Also there is a big long bad history with Garfield and romantic relationships that I am NOT going to get into but to compress a very long story he did actually set his ex on fire, he was not Firefly yet.
> 
> It happens to the best of us.


	8. Chapter 8

Edward opened his eyes hazily, glancing over at his cell phone, which was going ballistic as text after text lit up the screen like a broken strobe light.  Edward boosted himself onto his elbow and picked up the phone to better look at it.  Jon’s familiar contact, changed to Dipstick by Abigail when he’d texted in the middle of an argument, had sent at least ten texts, all reading the same thing:

Please come.

A brief shock of panic went through Edward.  He wasn’t sure why Jon was texting him but it had to be urgent.  Edward bolted from the couch he was sleeping on and scrambled to put on the nearest clothes he had, a pair of jeans and an old Pink Floyd t-shirt would have to do.  He was halfway out the door with one sneaker on when he heard an unfamiliar snort of laughter.

“And where the fuck are you going?”

Edward turned back to the speaker.  Abigail’s brother, Jasper, was leaning on the doorframe leading to the basement, sans a shirt and somewhat bedraggled.  Apparently, Edward in civvies at three in the morning was funny enough to get the emotionless twenty-something to laugh.

“I just got a text and I need to go,” Edward reported, “so I’m going.”

“Okay,” Jasper nodded, “I’ll tell Abigail.  How long will you be gone?”

“Uh,” Edward paused, “not sure.  Hey why are you so happy?  You’re never emotional at all, much less ha-you just had sex didn’t you?”

“Mmhm,” Jasper nodded, giving a smug wave, “have fun.”

Edward clicked his teeth and slammed the door shut, pulling his shoe on the rest of the way and starting for Jon’s apartment, as he was walking, he got more than a few concerning texts, and dug around in his pocket, hoping these jeans were the ones with Jon’s key in them.  They were not.

Edward began to panic and turned heel to head back to Abigail’s, colliding with a pedestrian he didn’t see head-on.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Wikipedia can you WALK?”

Edward froze, he knew that voice.  He backed up as the man, quite clearly Joker, got to his feet, brushing himself off in mild irritation.

“Jon text you?” he asked, checking the heels of his hands for scrapes, “If so, he’s crashed, probably saw it coming though.  I’d hurry it up.”

“I forgot my key,” Edward protested, “and what do you mean ‘crashed’?”

“Bipolar disorder has two states,” Joker glanced up at Edward, “one of them is manic, the other is depressive, Jon slips between them fast.  He has a spare key above the doorframe, I just don’t like to use it.”

Edward raised an eyebrow.

“Well?” Joker gestured in the direction of Jon’s apartment, “I’m gonna kill you if he throws himself out a window Wikipedia, I swear to god.”

Edward stared at Joker for a second, then turned and started running.  He didn’t care that Joker had just turned on a dime, he didn’t care that he was running through the Gotham streets at three in the morning, he just knew he needed to get to Jon’s apartment.  He basically forgot why, he just knew he needed to be there.

Edward fumbled with the key in the lock and opened the door as wide as it would go.  The apartment was filled with a faint retching with intermittent sobs between them.  Edward slowly closed the door and ventured into the house to find the source of the sound.  He found Jon in the bathroom hunched over the toilet and dry heaving, whatever had been in his stomach was long emptied, an empty bottle of whiskey sat beside the sink.  When Edward stepped into the room, Jon turned his head slightly to look before returning to heaving over the toilet.

“There’s nothing else in your stomach,” Edward pulled Jon to his feet and helped him stumble to his bed.

“I was waiting until it looked like coffee grounds,” Jon muttered.

“Uh, no, let’s not do that,” Edward suggested.  Edward tried to lie Jon down on the bed and found that the man instead was hugging him around the waist.

“Don’t go,” he begged, “you need to stay, don’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to go anywhere,” Edward promised, “why would I?  You were trying to puke until you started bleeding internally.”

“I’m such an idiot,” Jon muttered, “Jack was right I can’t do anything without him I’m useless.”

“Whoa hold on a second you can do plenty without him.”

“No I can’t.”

“You didn’t need Jack to make fear toxin.  You didn’t need him to get a doctorate.  You don’t need him.  Look at me.”

Jon looked up at Edward, his eyes were red and puffy.

“You’re damn impressive, you know that?  I keep looking at you and wondering where the hell you’ve been because I can’t think of a single person I respect like I respect you.”

Jon tightened his grip on Edward’s waist and in a split second jumped up and pressed his lips against Edward’s for a split second, then pulled away.  He still looked exhausted, like he was about to cry, but there was a bittersweet sort of smile on his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking a bit as he spoke.

Edward nodded and let Jon hug him again.  Eventually, Jon shifted so he was sleeping in Edward’s lap.  Despite the puffiness around his eyes, he looked rather peaceful.  Edward ran a careful hand through Jon’s hair and watched him.  In the back of his mind, he found it a little creepy that he was watching someone sleep, but he was also flattered that Jon trusted him enough to text him in this state.  Edward ran his fingertips along his lips and glanced back down at Jon.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about being kissed though.  He assumed it was an impulse, just something he did because he needed to do it.

Edward’s phone rang and he looked at the ID.  Batman, a contact Edward did not recall putting into his phone.  Nevertheless, Edward answered it.

“Hello?”

“There had better be a very good reason I was just told you were seen running through the streets like a maniac at three am,” Batman snapped, almost so fast Edward didn’t catch everything said.

“Yeah I have a depressed thirty-five-year-old sleeping on me you want a better explanation?” Edward asked.

“Well,” Batman sighed, “he didn’t poison the water supply first, I’ll grant that.  He’s asleep?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll call Curtis and have her drop off clothes for you.  I want you to stay there until his mood stabilizes.”

“Pardon?”

“I can’t trust Crane alone in depressive states, usually he’s in Arkham when he has them so they can monitor him but I can’t take him out of the apartment when he’s already in that state.  You’re there, and I can’t risk someone else entering and freaking him out.”

“Why?”

“Do you want a list of the times Crane’s been hospitalized for suicide attempts or should I just tell you what you need to know?”

“What I need to know is fine,” Edward nodded, a little panicked now.

“Most of what he’s going to do is sleep and eat, luckily he might actually eat food in this state.  Keep him away from alcohol and for the love of god don’t let him cook.  A suicidal person and sharp objects don’t mix.”

“Batman I can’t cook.”

“Jambalaya in the fridge,” Jon muttered, an eye cracked open, “it’ll keep for at least a week.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

The line went dead and Edward turned his attention to Jon, who was looking up with one eye slightly open.

“I kissed you,” he murmured, “sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Edward shrugged, “it happens.”

“Mm,” Jon nodded and moved to actually sleep normally on the bed, “you can stay in here.  The couch isn’t very comfortable.”

“Uh,” Edward nodded, “thanks.”

Jon smiled and burrowed under the covers, covering his head with the pillow.  It made its point quite clearly: do not disturb.

Edward shifted out of his jeans and slipped off his sneakers, but hesitated in actually lying down.  He didn’t need to give Joker more reasons to want him dead.  After a moment, however, he decided that sleeping was worth the risk of death by psychotic clown and slid under the covers beside Jon, keeping his back facing Jon and exhaling slowly.

He couldn’t help but feel like he was on a freight train, moving way too fast into this.  A friendship with Jon was already a dangerous undertaking, but being trusted by the idiot?  Maybe Garfield was right about that whole love thing.  Edward had been in love once before, but he’d come to terms with her never feeling the same way about him.  He wasn’t sure if Jon would be like that, or hell, if he even loved Jon.  Emotions were a confusing thing, and Edward was not good at managing his own, as much as he liked to pretend he was.

Edward shut his eyes and put those thoughts in the back of his mind, now was neither the time nor the place to wonder where his feelings lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return and here you go.


End file.
